A Dream

     I had a dream. It was about Philly, or around Philly. I was leaving Philly. I was taking a subway train to my car. I met some folks coming off the line. It was the wrong stop, but I walked with them. It was familiar and unfamiliar. We were in and out of houses. Some had money. Some didn't. We met a guy who dealt in tires. We scattered in the streets while he dropped tires from heights, off his roof (rims and all). We dodged. We laughed. We drank beer. Then I walked with people less familiar. A few laid down and got high. I didn't see how they did it or what they were doing. Then I was afraid. People were needy and they started looking like zombies who had forgotten themselves and their goodness. I kept feeling for my wallet and phone. I couldn't figure out how to get back to my car. Oh shit! No. I had to get back to the subway stop. What stop did I get off on? Where did I leave my car? Then I knew I was dreaming. All I had to do was wake up and my car was outside. I became confident and I stayed in the dream, soon forgetting I was dreaming. We had gone down hill into all the places we went. Now we were walking up hill. Now I had a car (much nicer than my car). But, just before that, we were philosophizing. My buddy John was there. We talked about shit going through a system in an apartment building. He was the manager, I think. But we weren't really talking about shit, shit. It was symbolic. That was never stated but we both knew it. Then John was with other folks, walking and I was driving my car out of a city-block, exposed parking lot. John had disciples. I recognized some from wandering before. I wanted to know if anyone needed a ride anywhere. John looked at me and I knew then I wasn't needed. (Hey, John was on the subway train in the beginning, but we didn't know each other then or didn't recognize or weren't ready for each other- something like that!) He didn't nod. He just looked at me. He looked at me like I should know. Then he looked away and kept walking with all of them. I felt I should stay, but it was okay. It was time to go. Then I was walking near a subway stop, but I couldn't find stairs anywhere to get up. There was a fence and an open field. Someone told me their dad drove through the fence one time. Right through it. It was the only way, they said. Then I found the stairs under the bridge. That was the last thing I remember, but I'm not sure it was the end. Funny. Usually the end is all I can remember. I woke up feeling strong and clear. I grabbed my notebook and rushed to the kitchen table. No one was up. My mind was alive. Sometimes it's best to be alone when your mind is alive.